


When the Smoke Clears

by SeemaG



Series: Tightrope [12]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Jefferies Tubes (Star Trek)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25999765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeemaG/pseuds/SeemaG
Summary: Three months into their voyage home, Tom Paris tracks B'Elanna Torres down to clear up a few things.
Series: Tightrope [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797067
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	When the Smoke Clears

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Rocky for the beta.

Tom stared down the long length of ladder before taking a deep breath and swinging onto it. He had never been a big fan of Jefferies tubes; most of them were claustrophobic and dimly lit. As tall as he was, it was a tight fit and eventually the close quarters caused muscles he didn’t know he had to seize up and cramp. But still, desperate times called for desperate measures and for that reason, he was carefully making his way down the ladder, testing each step before releasing his grip on the previous rung. If he lost his grip, it would be a long tumble to the bottom.

Six decks down, he finally arrived at the junction he was looking for. He opened the access hatch and climbed inside the tube, the sound of his movements startling the only other occupant of the tube: B’Elanna Torres. She dropped her hyperspanner as she turned towards him. “Paris? What the hell are you doing here?”

“You’re a hard woman to track down,” Tom said. He paused. It was hot in here, and B’Elanna had shed her uniform jacket and turtleneck, leaving her in the tank top and uniform pants. Her hair had a little bit of a curl to it, and a thin sheen of sweat marked her forehead.

“You could have warned me you were coming,” she told him. She picked up the tool and continued to work on the open panel in front of her.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked. To be perfectly honest, he thought she probably would have found a reason to flee before he got there. He squatted next to her. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Fused manifold assembly,” she said, pointing to the charred remains of a system. “I’ve managed to reroute around it but eventually we’re going to have to replace this part.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Tom said. “Can you replicate a replacement?”

B’Elanna nodded. “But we’re running low on energy stores for the industrial replicator, so I’m trying to be smart about what we do replicate.” She sighed. “I’ve asked Neelix about any possible trading posts in the sector where we could pick up some spare engine parts, but he doesn’t seem to know of any nearby that would have what I’m looking for.”

Tom frowned. When Neelix and Kes had been first brought on board 3 months ago, he’d thought it was a smart move by the captain. But Neelix’s knowledge seemed to primarily center on the sector containing the Ocampan homeworld and had grown less and less valuable the further they had traveled. In addition, Tom found Neelix’s intrusiveness, the way he was always putting himself forward and inserting himself into conversations whether they concerned him or not, to be very off-putting. Kes was another matter. Warm and friendly, she seemed to be exceptionally good at reading people and did not draw lines of demarcation between Maquis and Starfleet the way everyone else on board seemed to do. Tom would be lying if he said he didn’t find the young Ocampan woman attractive. She was also involved with Neelix, though Tom didn’t pretend to understand the nuances of that relationship at all. Still, he kept his distance, as pursuing a woman in a committed relationship would be one more complication in his life that he really didn’t need right now. “If anyone can figure this out, you can,” Tom said.

B’Elanna looked at him with surprise. “Thanks. I think.”

“No, I mean it. How you kept the _Val Jean_ flying,” he shook his head in disbelief, “that was a miracle in of itself. A Frankenstein of parts that should have never worked together and yet, they did.”

“’Frankenstein’?”

“A living being together cobbled together from a science experiment gone wrong. It’s a Terran classic, you should watch it some time,” Tom said. He shifted his position in the tube. “How long have you been down here anyway?”

“It’s been a while. I haven’t been keeping track of time.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Just wondering. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for a while and Lieutenant Carey was kind of vague on where you were.”

“Remind me to thank him later.” She paused. “You could have asked the computer.”

He shrugged. “I could have, the computer seems to have followed the comm system’s lead and malfunctioned.” He looked around. “And if you had answered, I would have missed the tour of _Voyager’s_ innards.” He waited a beat and then said, “Carey advised against using the transporters. Seems like he has a concern about the power reserves.”

“Yeah. We’re running low on dilithium too. It’s affecting a lot of things as of late. We’re managing to compensate here and there, but it’s getting to be an increasingly complex power management issue.” B’Elanna scowled and then painstakingly maneuvered herself so that she was flat on her stomach, her body curved toward the panel. She reached up and grabbed the malfunctioning component out with a swift and strong jerk. Her arm muscles rippled with the movement. “What do you want?”

“Helm control’s been sluggish since the attack this morning,” Tom said. “I downloaded a lot of the data to the computer for your review. Not sure what’s going on, but there seems to be a vibration.”

“A ‘vibration’?”

“Yeah, more like an oscillation on the molecular level, just enough to slow response by a few micro-seconds. Doesn’t matter right now because we’re in the middle of nowhere, but if we run into any hostiles…”

“I’m not saying it’s not unimportant, but I’ve got my hands full here now. I can try to look later, but I can’t promise anything,” B’Elanna said. She blew a puff of air out of her mouth, before wiping errant strands of hair away from her face. “I’ll ask Carey and Nicoletti to check on the bioneural gel packs. There could be an issue there.”

“Thanks.” Tom considered. “Since I’m down here now, can I give you a hand?”

B’Elanna looked surprised. “Aren’t you off duty?”

“Yeah, but I’m not looking forward to climbing back up that ladder any time soon.” He added, “Besides, sticking around here would be more interesting. Harry’s pulling a double shift analyzing the data from this morning’s attack and I don’t feel like sitting in my quarters staring at the walls or out the window.”

“I know the feeling.” She carefully changed position again; the top of her tank top slipped down just enough to give Tom a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage. He had a brief memory of accidentally brushing up against her while she gave him a tour of the _Val Jean’s_ systems; his reaction then had been surprisingly electric. At the time, B’Elanna had jerked back, threatened to rearrange his pretty face, and told him to keep his mind squarely on the systems she was showing him. He’d taken a step back, but there was something intriguing about a woman who could so casually dismiss him out of hand; he wasn’t used to that at all.

“Tom?” He jerked back to attention as B’Elanna indicated a section of conduit. “Can you hold this in place? I’m going to weld the joints. Watch your fingers.”

Tom did as she asked and he tried to keep his nerves calm as he watched the flame dance close to his fingertips, but B’Elanna’s expert skill kept his skin safe even if he could feel the heat. “There are Starfleet cadets who can’t weld this well.”

She didn’t look at him. “I know.” She ran the torch over the joint one more time and the nodded. “Thanks. You can let go now.” She pulled herself upright, and leaned against the wall of the tube, her knees pulled up and her boots flat against the opposite edge.

“You ok? It’s hot down here.”

“Klingons like it hot,” she answered. “I’m just thinking about how much more there is to do.”

“You never answered my question. How long have you been down here?”

“None of your business.”

“I’m thinking you’re well into your second shift.”

“And why would you care?”

It was a good question and he had a million answers, but the truth probably wouldn’t win him any points with B’Elanna. Since their paths had crossed once again on _Voyager_ , she had been professional at best, antagonistic at worst. It was impossible to read where he fell in her estimation. Even so, he forged ahead. “I don’t know much about Klingon physiology, but you probably need to eat and drink at this point, possibly get some rest.”

B’Elanna turned toward him. “Did Chakotay send you?”

“No. I came looking for you because I have a problem and I think you’re the only one who can fix it.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll check on helm control.” B’Elanna sniffed the air. “Do you smell that?”

“No.”

B’Elanna frowned. “It smells like plasma.”

Tom’s eyes widened. “That’s not good.”

B’Elanna groped for her jacket and grabbed her communicator. “Torres to Carey.” The communicator crackled. B’Elanna sighed. “Torres to Carey.” Another burst of static, and then finally, a clear line on her third attempt.

“Carey here.”

“There’s a distinct odor reminiscent of plasma—”

“Yeah, we’ve got a situation, Chief. Plasma overheated, and there’s some blowback. I didn’t think it was going to affect you but if you’re smelling it, you’d better get out. I’m sending a crew to vent it now.”

“Understood.” B’Elanna grabbed her jacket and gestured to Tom to head back to the ladder. “I’ll close up now, but you need to get out.”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Tom gazed at her skeptically. B’Elanna was moving fast now, replacing the panel, and welding it back into place. As she worked, he could smell an odd scent in the air. It was definitely plasma. No wonder it was so hot down here. Even as he thought that he realized the temperature must still be going up. He unzipped his jacket, then shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the floor, but not before grabbing his communicator and affixing it to his shirt. Even in his T-shirt, it was unbearably hot. He hesitated as he noted the beads of sweat on B’Elanna’s forehead. He knew she could take care of herself, but he also didn’t have a good feeling about leaving her behind in the sweltering Jefferies tube. “I’ll wait,” he told her. “Maybe I can give you a hand?”

“Suit yourself,” she said, pointedly ignoring his offer. A short time later, the panel was replaced, and Tom scrambled towards the ladder, B’Elanna close behind. The smell was quite strong now. Tom swung out on to the ladder, climbed up a few rungs, and then paused to make sure B’Elanna was below him. His hands were sweaty, but he kept climbing until he reached the hatch. He pushed against it, but it was stuck. He braced himself again and tried again. It still wouldn’t open. “Go down!” he yelled. “The mechanism is non-responsive.”

“Let’s trade places. I can try to repair it.”

“The fumes are too strong!”

“You forget I have two sets of lungs.”

“Yeah, and if you stay here, both of them are going to get scorched,” Tom shot back. He pointed down to the next level. “I think we can get out that way. It’s a long crawl to the end, but it’s better than staying here.”

B’Elanna nodded and then moved off the ladder and into the tube that Tom indicated. Once she was in, Tom lowered himself and then made the same move. B’Elanna was crawling fast in front of him and even though the metal grid was biting into his knees, he matched her pace. Within minutes, they were at the end, and B’Elanna was able to swing the hatch open and crawl through. Tom followed and he then slammed it shut behind them.

B’Elanna slumped against the wall, her arms draped across her forehead. She was breathing heavily.

“You ok?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, I just need a moment.” Her breathing moderated and then she looked towards the next length of tube. “For such an advanced ship, couldn’t Starfleet have designed more comfortable service tubes?”

Tom laughed. “I think it’s fair to say that the people who designed these tubes never actually had to work in them.” 

“Well, when we get back to the Alpha Quadrant, I’ve got a thing or two to tell them.”

“By the time we get back, maybe they will have figured out the error of their ways.”

“Yeah.” B’Elanna pressed her face into her hands. “A lot can happen in 70 years.”

“Yup.”

They sat in silence and then B’Elanna finally roused herself. “Let’s go.”

They proceeded at a more leisurely pace to the next hatch, but when they got there, they found it sealed as well. Clearly annoyed, B’Elanna tried to hail Joe Carey. After multiple tries, she managed to let him know their situation.

“The overheated plasma has triggered some emergency measures, including sealing many of the Jefferies tube hatches. If there _was_ a fire, you’d want to keep it contained, you know. It’s going to take some time for us to re-set them,” Carey said, sounding apologetic. “In the meantime, I’ll send Freddy down and see if he can manually open the doors for you.”

“Sounds good. We’re at Deck 11, junction 56A. Tell Freddy to be quick. Torres out.” She turned to Tom. “Guess we’re stuck here for a while.”

“And here I was wondering how I was going to spend my off-duty time.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Tom tried to rearrange his long limbs in a way that would maximize comfort and minimize the bite of the grid into his skin. “Like I said, I spend most of my time in my quarters. This is at least a change of scenery.” He looked at her meaningfully. “And the company is good too.”

B’Elanna’s face flushed. “We’re stuck here together, we have to make the best of it, but no offense, I really wouldn’t have picked you to be stuck in a Jefferies tube with.”

He held up his hand. “I’m just being honest.” He sighed, tipped his head back. “I’ve spent the last decade of my life saying things I didn’t mean just to get things I didn’t really want.” His voice cracked slightly. “I didn’t – don’t – have any expectations. Not anymore. I just don’t want to be _that_ guy anymore, you know?”

B’Elanna stared at him. “So, you’re giving up.”

“I didn’t say _that_.”

“Things get hard and you cut and run?”

“Is that what the Maquis say about me?”

B’Elanna shrugged. “The Maquis said a lot of things about you.” She smoothed her hair away from her face. “You didn’t make a great first impression.”

“What about a second impression?”

She arched her eyebrow. “Ask me later.” She shifted her position. “

"Lots of people on this ship have pasts they are trying to outrun. You're not special.”

  
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No,” she said, “just remind you that you’re not the only one who doesn’t have any expectations.”

“Including you?”

Her eyes flashed. “Frankly, Lieutenant, that’s none of your business.”

“Sorry.” Tom ran his hand through his hair. His heart was pounding extremely fast now, the blood rushing through his ears. But he had taken the first step, and he was damned if he was going to pull back now. “When Janeway asked me to join _Voyager_ as an observer to track down your cell, I was looking forward to seeing you again, but I also wanted to just do my job and get off this ship. Start my life over. A new beginning.” He waited for a moment, but B’Elanna showed no reaction to his revelation.

“Well, you certainly got a new beginning,” she answered coolly.

“By the time we get back to the AQ, everything I’ve been wanting to leave behind will be a thing of the past,” Tom said pensively. “I’ll be older than my father is now.” The words slipped out before he could stop himself and he wondered why he was even telling B’Elanna this.

“That bothers you, doesn’t it?” B’Elanna’s tone was unexpectedly gentle.

“Yeah. Sometimes I imagine asking Captain Janeway to drop me off at the first M-class planet that would have me. What’s the point of all of this? There’s nothing waiting for me in the AQ but trouble, so why not just stay here? At least then I’d have a chance at something more than—” he stopped. “I’m sorry. My problems aren’t yours.”

“But I understand,” B’Elanna said quietly. “Do you really want to stay here in the DQ?”

Tom shook his head. “No, but it’s tempting, when the pressure of being Tom Paris gets to be too much.” His lips turned into a crooked grin. “I keep thinking about a fresh start, about being the officer my father wanted me to be, but sometimes it’s impossible.”

“Yeah, I get that. That’s how I felt when I dropped out of the Academy. It’s exhausting living to everyone else’s expectations of you.” B’Elanna sighed. “Ever since we’ve been out here, I’ve been wondering about what’s going on with the Maquis we left behind in the Alpha Quadrant. We were under-resourced and fighting on two fronts. I feel like I’ve let them down.” She squirmed into a more comfortable position. “I haven’t spoken to my parents in years, haven’t seen my mother in at least five. The Maquis became the family I didn’t know I needed.”

“You never told me how you joined the Maquis.”

“I was an engineer on a freighter running a route between Cestus III and Andoria. The Cardassians attacked, but at the same time Chakotay showed up to reclaim their cargo. I didn’t have anywhere else to go so I left with them and joined the cell. That was the first time I really felt like I had somewhere I belonged.”

“Most of your cell is here with you.”

“Yeah, but it’s different now.”

“In what way?”

B’Elanna’s expression turned concerned. “Only a few of the Maquis totally bought in and fully accepted Janeway’s offer to serve on this ship. I didn’t like it when Janeway destroyed the array and then Chakotay accepted her offer to join crews. I thought it was the wrong decision.”

Tom considered this. “Do you still think that?”

“I was surprised when she chose me over Lieutenant Carey to serve as chief engineer. I thought that it was a trick, but no, it’s been a genuine offer. And every interaction I’ve had her with has been positive.” B’Elanna tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve made my peace with wearing this uniform, but there are a few who haven’t.” She sighed and kicked at the opposite wall, the clang reverberating down the length of the tube. “I’m hoping they settle down soon.”

“Surely Chakotay—”

“I think Chakotay is focused on being the best first officer to Janeway that he can,” B’Elanna said, and Tom didn’t miss the edge in her voice.

“I’ve noticed that,” Tom said.

“I’ve tried to tell him there’s trouble stirring, but he hasn’t been listening to me. I’ve asked Seska to talk to him, but if she has, she hasn’t said anything to me,” B’Elanna said. She sighed. “Maybe you can say something to the captain. She’ll listen to you.”

“Why, because she’s my stepmother?”

B’Elanna seemed taken aback by his vehemence. “I just meant—”

Tom let out his breath. “Sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

“No, I didn’t.” She turned her head to the side, looking at him contemplatively. “I never thought I’d see you again.” The faintest of smiles played on her lips. “I was so surprised when I came aboard _Voyager_ and there you were…”

“Are you saying you were happy to see me again?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she said with a scoff. “As far as I was concerned, you’d betrayed us, and we spent a few frantic weeks hiding out in the Badlands, living on scraps of rations, and hoping the space eddies wouldn’t tear us apart.” Her expression grew distant, as if she was remembering those days. “Everywhere we turned, there was either a Starfleet or a Cardassian vessel waiting for us. I thought it was over for us, but we waited them out.” Triumph colored her voice. “One day, the Starfleet ships were gone, and we were able to evade the Cardassians long enough to make it to the Maquis base to re-supply.”

“You have to believe me, B’Elanna,” Tom said earnestly, “I didn’t set out to be captured. I had every intention of carrying out that mission successfully.”

“I always wondered about that. I told Chakotay when you didn’t return that he’d made a mistake hiring you. A former Starfleet officer, son of an admiral?” B’Elanna shook her head. “And I hated myself for trusting you with our only shuttle.”

“Well, let me tell you that feelings of self-loathing don’t go away with second chances.” Tom looked down at his hands. “I’m really sorry about all of that, B’Elanna.”

She waved off the apology. “At least I’m not wondering about you anymore,” she told him. She extended her hand towards him. “Friends?”

It was a step in the right direction, he thought. In recent years, he’d concentrated less on making friends, more on finding bed partners. Being a friend meant you had someone’s back, and they had yours. Friendship implied trust. And it was a strange and heady experience to realize that someone could possibly put their trust in someone like him. “I’d like that,” he told her, as his fingers gripped hers. He was relieved when she didn’t pull away immediately, and in fact inched slightly closer to him. “I’m glad we had this chance to talk.”

She smiled. “Me too.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, interrupted only by the welcome sound of the hatch opening. 


End file.
